Subjected to censorship
I had a great relationship with the boys. I had more in common with them than most of the staff. It caused a bit of a stir. The staff had a separate table but I sat with the students.
I ran clubs, played soccer and tennis and generally interacted. It did not adversely affect my discipline in the classroom. Far from it. My classroom buzzed. Education is about relationship. I was building good healthy relationships based on mutual respect – not fear. I had no need to keep my distance. I could share my life with the students as any other adult might. They were in school to learn. I was there to teach and I felt that I had a lot to impart.
My main aim was to encouragement them to think for themselves and enjoy learning. A simple philosophy – question everything – explore – find the wonder.
Some of the students were putting together a magazine and I was asked to contribute.
That was great. I had written a number of books, short stories and poems. I was happy to contribute.
I wrote a story. It was all very stream of consciousness, Kerouacish but with a Philip K Dick Sci-fi twist. I liked it and the kids loved it. There was a bit of social satire for them to get their teeth into.
Before it was published it had to go to the Headmaster for approval. He was not keen on my social satire. Indeed he took exception to it.
A little delegation of students appeared at my door. They were in high dudgeon. The Headmaster had instructed them to remove my story and told them that it was not suitable for the magazine. The kids found it infuriating. I found it amusing.
There was talk about refusing to publish the whole magazine. There was discussion about starting a petition. I talked them down. There was no sense in creating a world war out of a skirmish. The times would win through. The old guard had had their day; they just didn’t know it yet.
I submitted another story. It was very apt. It concerned a factory for making pointless pieces of brightly coloured plastic. They had no purpose but could be joined to make pointless ornaments. It became a craze. Everyone was collecting the pieces of plastic and making gaudy rubbish. It was a commentary about the trivial nature of most of the ca[pitalist system. I wanted to see how that might go down with the Head.
In the end the students were torn between substituting the new story, which they liked, or pulling the whole magazine.
In the end they arrived at a compromise. They removed my story and left a big blank space where it had been. They printed CENSORED in big diagonal writing across the pages.
I liked it. I had never been censored before.
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